A dragon vein is a term from feng shui.
Ancient feng shui masters liked to use the dragon as a metaphor for the flow, rise, fall, twists, and turns of mountain ranges. Dragons are masters of transformation—able to grow large or small, bend or stretch, hide or reveal, fly or dive. Mountain ranges, with their ever-changing forms, resemble dragons, hence the name.
Every feng shui treasure land must have a dragon vein.
Skilled feng shui masters can trace a dragon vein’s path to locate the dragon, assess the sands, observe the waters, pinpoint the acupoint, and determine orientation—establishing the universe’s order and balancing yin and yang.
Elder Longmei gazed at Dalong Mountain, awestruck. “A dragon vein’s layout is like a great tree, with root dragons, trunk dragons, branch dragons, and leaf dragons. Only where the dragon vein’s spiritual energy gathers is a true feng shui treasure.”
“The Ten Thousand Great Mountains stretch for thousands of miles, and all their spiritual energy converges here at Dalong Mountain.”
“Look closely at Dalong Mountain—though barren of grass, it stands like a sky-piercing sword, exuding extraordinary presence, like an emperor guarded by the other twenty-seven peaks.”
“Plus, Dalong Mountain and its surrounding twenty-seven peaks align with the twenty-eight celestial constellations—a pattern so rare it’s a once-in-a-millennium true dragon land.”
“Whoever buries their ancestors here will see their descendants birth a true dragon emperor.”
Shuisheng’s eyes lit up. “Uncle Master, is that all true?”
“Do I look like I’m lying?” Elder Longmei glared at him.
“Awesome,” Shuisheng said.
“What’s got you so excited?” Elder Longmei asked, baffled.
Ye Qiu shot Shuisheng a puzzled glance too.
Shuisheng grinned. “Uncle Master, when you die, I’ll bury you here—then Longhu Mountain will produce a true dragon emperor!”
Smack!
Elder Longmei slapped Shuisheng’s head, roaring, “I’m not dead yet!”
“You’ll die eventually, right?”
Elder Longmei trembled with rage.
Shuisheng, oblivious, pressed, “Uncle Master, am I wrong?”
“Wrong, your grandma!”
Furious, Elder Longmei unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks on Shuisheng.
Ye Qiu watched, amused—these two were a pair of clowns.
Only when Elder Longmei tired himself out did he stop.
Ye Qiu looked over, seeing Shuisheng’s bald head sporting several prominent lumps.
“Uncle Master, you didn’t hold back—hurts like hell,” Shuisheng whined, clutching his head, looking pitiful.
“Curse my death again, and I’ll hit you harder,” Elder Longmei snapped.
“Enough, old man—let’s not waste time. Time to head in!” Ye Qiu said.
Elder Longmei cautioned, “A true dragon land is bound to be extraordinary—be careful once we’re inside.”
The trio set off toward Dalong Mountain.
Among the twenty-eight peaks, Dalong Mountain sat at the center, with the nearest two peaks three hundred meters away.
In minutes, they stood before them.
The two peaks loomed like twin giants, shoulder to shoulder, a fifty-meter-wide canyon between them.
At the canyon’s entrance stood a stone tablet.
It towered three meters high and one meter wide, thick and imposing.
Shuisheng pointed out, “Uncle Master, there’s writing on it.”
“Do you think I’m blind?” Elder Longmei grumbled.
“Let’s check it out,” Ye Qiu said, striding to the tablet. After studying it, he read aloud, “To those who come after: Do not enter the mountain. Fortune and calamity intertwine; life and death hang in balance.”
Clearly, the tablet warned against entering.
Who would leave such a marker here?
Ye Qiu frowned, curious.
Then Shuisheng circled behind it, exclaiming, “Uncle Master, Dr. Ye, come quick—there’s writing on the back too!”
Ye Qiu and Elder Longmei hurried over.
They focused on the back, where six characters were etched in the lower left corner.
“Longhu Mountain, Zhang Daoling!”
Ye Qiu’s heart jolted—this tablet was left by Zhang Daoling, Longhu Mountain’s founding patriarch.
“The journal was right—our Patriarch was here,” Elder Longmei said. He adjusted his robes, knelt, and spoke reverently to the tablet, “Longhu Mountain disciple Longmei pays respects to the Patriarch.”
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
He kowtowed three times, Shuisheng following suit.
Ye Qiu helped him up. “Old man, since Heavenly Master Zhang left this warning, it means there’s danger inside.”
Elder Longmei nodded. “A millennium-rare true dragon land is bound to have risks.”
“But the Patriarch also said fortune and calamity coexist, life and death split even—there’s opportunity amid the danger.”
“Besides, we’ve come this far—I’m not turning back.”
His goal was to retrieve Longhu Mountain’s sacred treasure, the Heavenly Master Sword. Until he found it, he wouldn’t retreat an inch.
“No time to waste—into the valley,” Ye Qiu declared, stepping in first.
Elder Longmei and Shuisheng followed.
The canyon was filled with uniform green bamboo—no trees in sight.
The bamboo grew lush and verdant, swaying gently in the breeze like dancing fairies.
A breathtaking sight.
They moved slowly, wary of danger and mindful of Elder Longmei’s frail state.
Already injured, he’d been worn down by relentless travel. The crystal fish had restored some stamina, but last night’s march had pushed him near collapse.
After about a hundred meters, Ye Qiu’s eyelids twitched violently.
He stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Elder Longmei asked.
“I’ve got a bad feeling—like there’s danger here,” Ye Qiu said.
Shuisheng, ever timid, suggested, “Uncle Master, why not cast a divination?”
“Good idea,” Elder Longmei agreed, pulling three copper coins from his sleeve. He muttered an incantation and tossed them.
Buzz!
The coins hovered, spinning rapidly before him.
Ten seconds later—
Clink!
They fell in a triangular formation.
“Uncle Master, what’s the reading? Any danger?” Shuisheng asked eagerly.
Elder Longmei picked them up. “The hexagram shows no immediate threat—a great auspicious sign. This trip might go smoother than we thought…”
Before he could finish, Ye Qiu cut in, “Old man, what’s that?”
Elder Longmei looked up.
In an instant, the smile froze on his face.
